assion,
approval or disapproval?--something one could not get hold of, not even
name, only suspect. And that embarrassed her. So she only gave
reserved answers to their friendly questions about Woelfchen, was
concise in what she told them, cool in her tone, and still she could
not hinder her voice vibrating secretly. That was the tender happiness
she felt, the mother's pride she could not suppress, the warmth of her
feelings, which lent her voice its undertone of emotion. The others
took if for quite a different emotion.

The ladies, who took a walk in the garden after the dinner was over,
were chatting confidentially together. The paths that smelt of the
pines and in which the coloured lanterns gave a gentle subdued light
were just suitable for that. They wandered about in twos and threes,
arm in arm, and first of all looked carefully to see if there were any
listeners, for their hostess must on no account hear it. There was
hardly one among the ladies who had not made her observations. How well
she bore up. It was really pathetic to see how resentment and
affection, dislike and warmth struggled to get the mastery as soon as
there was any talk about the child. And how a restless look would steal
into her bright eyes--ah, she must have had and still have much to
contend with, poor thing.

There was only one lady there who said she had known Paul Schlieben
much too long and well not to feel sure that it was ridiculous--nay,
even monstrous--to suppose he would do such a thing. He who was always
such a perfect gentleman, not only in his outward behaviour and
appearance but also in his thoughts, he, the most faithful of husbands,
who even now, after a long married life, was as much in love with his
wife as though they had just been married. The thing was quite
different. They had always wished for children, what was more natural
than that they should adopt one, now that they had finally
given up all hope? Did not other people do the same?

Of course that happened, there was no doubt about it. But then the
particulars were always given as to whether it was an orphan or the
illegitimate offspring of some one moving in the highest circles,
whether it had been offered in the newspaper--"to be given away to
noble-minded people"--or whether it was the child of a girl who had
been left in the lurch or the unwished-for child of parents belonging
to the labouring classes, who had already been too richly blessed with
children, an